


Use Somebody

by Jorun



Category: Broadchurch, Secret Diary of a Call Girl (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22001179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jorun/pseuds/Jorun
Summary: Two people, alone and broken, brought together by circumstance. Can they help each other heal?
Relationships: Hannah Baxter/Alec Hardy
Kudos: 28





	Use Somebody

**Author's Note:**

> I started posting this story years ago on tumblr and then never got around to finishing it. I recently found it among my files and decided to write an ending and posting it here.

_Someone like you and all you know and how you speak._

_Countless lovers under cover of the street._

_You know that I could use somebody._

_You know that I could use somebody._

_Someone like you.  
  
_

* * *

  
She gets the call on her way to meeting a new client. She almost doesn’t answer when she sees it’s her sister calling. The second she hears Jackie’s sobbing voice ice grips her heart. She makes out the words ‘dad’, ‘heart attack’, ‘hospital’, ’surgery’ and ‘critical’.

After that it all goes blank. She has no idea how she made it to the hospital, one moment she’s outside the hotel and the next she’s in the waiting room with her family. The following days are a blur of anxious waiting, doctor’s reports and her mother crying inconsolably.  
  


* * *

  
She's standing in queue at the hospital canteen the first time she sees him, he's seated at one of the tables eating a drab looking salad. She's not sure what it is about him that catches her attention, something about his weary posture and defeated expression. He looks like she fells.

She orders a chicken sandwich and by the time she brings her gaze back to the table he's gone.  
  


* * *

  
The second time she sees him is later that evening in the hospital church; she hadn't planned on coming here, she'd just been walking aimlessly in an attempt to escape her family’s presence for a while.

He's seated at one of the benches in the back, seemingly lost in thought. He doesn't appear to notice her presence until she sits down next to him.

She gives him the most charmful smile she can muster. “No priest?”

The man shrug his shoulders in response. He clearly isn't the talkative type.

“Shame, I'm overdue for a confession.”

“Well, you can always confess to me. By this time tomorrow I'm probably a dead man anyway.”

She not sure what to make of that but she figures if he is going to be blatantly truthful with her then he deserves the same in return. “I'm a prostitute.”

He finally looks at her, his expression incredulous. “You were going to tell a priest that?”

She chuckles, it's a hollow laugh but after days of crying it's a relief none the less.

“What are you in for?” She doesn't actually expect him to tell her so she's surprised when he answers.

“Heart surgery. They're going to but a pacemaker in me.” He looks at her again, his intense scrutiny slightly unnerving. “You're not a patient.” It's not a question.

“No. It's my dad.” She doesn't elaborate and he doesn't ask for which she is grateful. “When is your surgery?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

He sounds so dejected, she wants to say something to make him feel better. “They say the doctors here are very good.” It’s an empty platitude and she knows it.

They sit in silence for a while. It’s comforting in a way, being in the company of someone who she doesn’t have to put up a front with, who doesn’t demand anything of her.

Two women walk in talking in hushed tones and sits down at the front bench. He gets up to leave but hesitates for a moment and casts a glance at her. “I hope your dad gets better.”

Her smile this time is genuine. “Thanks. Good luck tomorrow.”

She watches him walk away, an unfamiliar feeling of longing blooming in her chest.  
  


* * *

  
She’s back at the hospital early the next morning. Her father’s condition is still critical, they’ve starting taking turns staying the night so someone is there in case he... She doesn’t let herself finish that thought.

Her mom is there and they sit with him for a while, she tries her best not to focus on how pale he looks or all the equipment he’s hooked up to. Her mom is silent, lost in her thoughts and Hannah finds her own thoughts keep wandering to the man she spoke with yesterday. Was the surgery over? Or was he laying on the operating table right now?

When Jackie and Patrick arrive a few hours later she excuses herself and goes in search of him. She isn’t sure why she’s so curious, she just needs to make sure he made it through his surgery alright. Unfortunately that is easier said than done, especially since she doesn’t even know his name.

After striking out with the, rather rude, reception nurse she came across an intern. With some flirting she manages to pry out of him that post-op patients are at ward 26 and that there is a Scottish bloke in room 110.  
  


* * *

  
Sure enough it’s him, she feels a strange sense of relief to see that he made it out of surgery unscathed. He’s asleep and there is no one else in the room. She steps inside, carefully closing the door behind her.

She had just planned on checking that he was alright but now that she was here she feels reluctant to leave. She’s struck by how serene he looks, completely opposite of the drained countenance from the other day.

She lets her gaze wander across the room, it looks like your standard hospital room, cold and impersonal. She notices that there are no flowers or get-well cards.

She paces around the room, looking for something to occupy her time not ready to get back to her family just yet. His medical chart catches her attention and after a quick glance at the door she picks it up, she doesn’t understand much of the information written on the form but she does learn that his name is Alec Hardy.

She’s startled by a throat clearing, looking up she’s meet by dark brown eyes studying her in perplexion. “You’re awake,” she declares unnecessarily.

“Apparently,” he croaks, his voice scratchy and rough.

She wants to get him a glass of water but feels unsure if he would appreciate the gesture. “Told you the doctor’s here are good.”

“You did.”

Realizing she’s still holding his medical chart she hastens to put it back. ”I was just…” she trails of realizing she doesn’t have a good excuse for her invasion of his privacy.

“How’s your dad?” he asks, graciously giving her an out.

“No change, he’s still…” she lets the sentence drift off and casts a reluctant glance at the door. “I should probably get back.”

”But you don’t want to,” he states.

Instead of responding she pulls up a chair next to the bed and takes a seat. ”So, I believe you owe me a confession.”

He furrows his brow in confusion.

“Yesterday I was told I was making a confession to a dying man who would take my secret to the grave. Yet here you are very much alive. I think it’s only fair I get something juicy in return so that I can blackmail you to silence.” She smiles to make it clear she’s joking. His stoic expression doesn’t change but his eyes soften.

She tries making small talk but he’s still a bit groggy from the anaesthetics so they sit mostly in silence, but unlike the unbearable tension she felt sitting with her family there is something almost peaceful about his presence.

After a while a nurse comes in to administer more painkillers and she knows she has to get back to her family before someone comes looking for her. ”I should go.”

He nods his head in acknowledgment, the defeated expression from yesterday is back.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” she promises. It's the first time she sees him smile.  
  


* * *

  
Her days are spent at the hospital but she ends up spending more time in Alec’s room than her fathers, she tries and fails to not feel guilty about it.

They mostly talk about inconsequential things. He doesn’t mention her confession from the first day and she doesn’t ask about his personal life.

“I’m getting discharged from here tomorrow.” he tells as she’s getting ready to leave.

”Oh, that’s good.” She ignores the stab of panic at the thought that she won’t get to see him again. ”Is someone picking you up?”

”Aye.” He doesn’t elaborate and she doesn’t pry. It hasn’t escaped her notice that she seems to be the only visitor he’s had since the operation.

”What time are you being discharged?”

”Around noon.”

“Well, I’ll stop by to… say goodbye,” she promises.

She’s halfway out the door when he calls out after her, “You’ve never told me your name.”

”Hannah.”  
  


* * *

  
She gets the call the next morning when she’s standing in the shower. She feels like her heart is going to burst out of her chest when she sees it’s her sister calling.

This time she remembers every agonizing second of the trip to the hospital, it feels like it takes hours to get there. Her family is already there in the waiting room when she arrives but this time the tears that are flowing are all happy ones. Her father is awake.

She smiles so wide her cheeks are hurting when the doctor announces he’s going to make a full recovery and will be able to go home in a few days. It’s almost an otherworldly experience to hear her father’s voice after having seen him lying unconscious for so long.

It’s almost one o’clock by the time she manages to sneak away to meet Alec, when she reaches his room he’s already gone. There is a note left on the bed, a phone number scrawled on it. She tucks it in her bra, next to her heart.  
  


* * *

  
She decides to wait three days before calling him, he can afford to sweat for a few days. She caves in after two days.

He answers on the third ring, _“Hardy.”_

“You’re phone greeting is almost as bad as your penmanship.”

_“Hannah?”_

She tries to keep the smile that breaks out at his delight out of her voice, “You could at least have signed your name. For all I knew I was calling up some pervert janitor.”

_”How’s your father?”_

“Better. He gets to come home on Monday.”

_“Good. I’m glad.”_

“How are you doing?”

_“I’m starting to feel more like myself. I’m back at work starting Monday, desk duty for the first few weeks.”_

“Excellent, the you can take me out to dinner on Friday.”

_“What makes you think I want to have dinner with you?”_

She smiles to herself and waits silently, confident that he will break first.

_“How does Alfredo’s sound? Eight o’clock?”_

”It’s a date.”


End file.
